


Toy

by Peregrine



Category: Date or Die (Video Game)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Headcanon That The Host is a Virgin, Sexual Content, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 04:00:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10549718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peregrine/pseuds/Peregrine
Summary: Out of all his toys, Hero was definitely the most interesting one.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Been wanting to write something for this since I played the first demo. And well...it's hard to resist some Hero/Host. Especially after that tantalizingly problematic scene.
> 
> Date or Die is a WIP game! If you haven't played the demo, you can find it [HERE](https://arden.itch.io/demo-or-die)! The route with the Host will provide you with all the background information you need to enjoy this fic.

The Host could hear Hero’s sobs even before he reached the door. He grinned to himself, straightening his bowtie. Out of all the contestants, Hero was definitely the one that fascinated him the most. They were all very interesting of course. He had chosen them for a reason. But Hero had turned out to surprise even him. She had more resilience than he had expected. But he was glad for it. She made things fun for him. He had been careful not to break her completely, of course, for his toys became very dull when they stopped fighting back. He’d already had to dispose of one of them and he didn’t want to have to do it again.

He stopped at the door and turned to Prototype. “Wait out here,” he ordered.

“But, sir...” Prototype responded, her bottom lip quivering.

The Host raised an eyebrow at her. “I’ve got this under control,” he told her. Prototype straightened her stance and nodded, the momentary surprise sinking away. She flattened herself against the wall and stood outside as the Host grabbed the door handle. The sobbing immediately stopped as he opened the door. He was met with the sight of Hero kneeling on the bed with her back to him.

“Oh, don’t stop crying on my account,” The Host said, waving his hand. He could see her shaking but she didn’t answer him. He momentarily scowled. Being ignored was not something he was going to stand for.

Putting that sickeningly sweet smile back on his face, he approached Hero. As the front of her came into view, he saw that her face was hidden in her hands. Sharp breaths of air left her lungs, coming out in rapid shuddering gasps.

The Host sat down on the bed before her, reaching out a hand. She didn’t fight back as he places the hand on her shoulder, gripping it, the other hand stretching out to cup her cheek, attempting to yank it up so that she would be forced to look at him. And that’s when it happened.

She removed her hands from her face. He just had time to see that her eyes were empty of tears before she lunged. The next thing he knew, she was on top of him, a knife held inches above his heart, his grip on her wrist the only thing stopping the metal from piercing his body. The Host felt a jolt of elation run through him. Her warm body pressed to his was like a _fire_ , burning hot and raw between them. The pit of his stomach quivered pleasantly. The Host grabbed her other hand to stop her from doing anything with it.

He grinned savagely up at her, his hand squeezing her wrist. “This again?” he said, clicking his tongue. Hero winced and groaned, her knife hand shaking vigorously. Finally the pressure became too much and she dropped it. He saw a flash of fear in her eyes and something about it sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine. “Maybe I should have given you ‘One Trick Pony’ as a name,” he taunted.

She finally seemed to come to and, vigorously, she directed a blow at his face. But The Host deflected the blow and used the opportunity to gain control. After a struggling, he finally turned her over and had her pinned against the bed.

“You tacky fucking piece of shit,” Hero snarled at him.

“Watch your language,” the Host said. “Or have you forgotten that little ring around your finger? Just because you overpowered me last time, don’t think i’ll let it happen again.”

Hero looked uncertain for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, she leaned forward and kissed him.

For a moment, the Host’s grip loosened, the act catching him off guard. Then Hero was struggling against him, trying to overpower him again. But he wasn’t going to let her. He bit her lip, struggling to hold her down. Then he heard it. He heard the _moan_ escape her. And suddenly they were kissing harder. The Host could taste iron against her lips. His own heart palpitated against his chest, every movement feeding the fire growing in his loins. He let go of her lips, giving a shuddering gasp before capturing them again.

Her hand found the hem of his shirt and she _gripped_ it tight, her hips pressing up against his, trying to create friction. And suddenly it was _all too much_. He let out a gasp and pulled away from her.

For a moment, Hero looked up at him, staring like a doe caught in a pair of headlights. Then she threw him off her, the fire reigniting in her eyes. He sat up on the bed and so did she.

The Host felt a ghost of a smile grace his lips. His own heart was still beating fast and hard. Then he noticed her looking down at his groin, staring. He glanced down there himself and saw a dark wet stain across the front of his pants.

The Host looked back to her and saw a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. Without another word, he stood up and turned his back on her. Taking a moment to readjust his lopsided bowtie, he walked to the door. As he swung it open, he chanced a glance back at her. She was staring at him with those dark inquisitive eyes. And she was _smirking_. He turned away, flushed, and stalked out the door.

“Sir, are you okay?” Prototype asked as he walked past her. “I heard noises from inside the-”

“Pant,” The Host interrupted her. “Please bring a pair of clean pants up to my room.”

“Sir…” Prototype said, looking befuzzled. The Host didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. He walked off and as soon as she was out of sight, he let go of his facade, looking down again at the mess he had made. He put his fist into his mouth, biting down gently. He wasn’t sure exactly _how_ that had happened. Yet Hero had proven again to be a very interesting toy.


End file.
